I am not one to lament on the difficulties of life. I have been alive long enough to know that there is a reason for everything that we go through, and it is our challenge to get through it as best we can. I was the kind of kid that thought I could do anything, and I loved everyone. But it was around the age of 8 or 9 that I realized something was not quite right in our home. I am trying to think just how I may have perceived it at that age, but the truth is, I always felt God beside me. Even before things went south. I felt Him, and was comforted. Perhaps it was that protection that kept me from seeing until it actually became a much bigger problem.
Without going into too much detail, I would fall asleep when things were upsetting at home by saying my prayers. I was fortunate that the addictions my family suffered from were not constant. I had brief periods where normalcy prevailed. Sometimes that confused me though because as a child I would think that if they had the capability to stop in the short term, why not long term? I assumed it was because I was not quite lovable enough, smart enough, helpful enough etc., to make them quit altogether. It was above my thought capabilities to think it did not have anything to do with me.
And that’s where Jesus helped me again. And not by giving me answers, but just by comforting me. That breath in prayer that calms you. The feeling that you are not alone.
It was not a complete repair though as there are consequences to everything we experience. As an adult I have managed to avoid addictions to alcohol, drugs etc. because of how it affected me. I stopped praying. I felt cold and alone. I grew angry and I was sad. But I was not without my own capability of causing pain to others. I grew a sharp tongue, and the capability of cutting someone down to size in less than 5 words. I would feel so devastatingly ugly afterwards. And while it might have been the effect on me of years growing up in an alcoholic household, I, in my angsty teenage/early twenties refined that ugly power all on my own. I grew even more distant from prayers, from the comfort of God. It felt like such a relief to regurgitate my pain on the first person who either knowingly or unknowingly pissed me off. Lifting a weight off of my heart…that brief moment of relief when I spew the words that cut them like a knife, which then unfolds into shame when you see them recoil at your insults. I then become that little kid again, only now I have harnessed all the hurt into an adult-sized weapon mouth. “I am sorry” is not enough to repair the torrent I unleashed.
As I grew into an adult, married and then had my children, I suddenly realized that I did not want them ever to be exposed to someone like me or a world that could possibly sadden them enough to make them like me. Of course life must have a downside if only to show us the meaning of how wonderful it is to experience the upside. All of my children, each in their own wonderfully independent way, encouraged and deepened the best changes in me. But I wanted to do even better for them. So once again, I turned to prayer. Prayer has been the cornerstone of my life. I have no idea if I will ever become worthy of heaven, but I sincerely pray every day that I do, and that my family will too. Prayer saved me as a child, and now as a senior adult, each day I pray to repair the broken little pieces of me that fell by the wayside. I pray too for those I may have hurt with my careless words. I pray for my family and for everyone who sends a prayer to Jesus asking for His help. And each day, I pray, just trying to become a little bit better. My heart is now fully aware that it always was and still is Jesus, with infinite patience and forgiveness, wanting to lead the way for me.
Laboccadellaverita 